Influence

They say that it's who you know... Joshua Penderson knew no one really. I mean, he sometimes would be recognized by the local coffee girl, because he always got a black coffee in the morning and she found it fun to say "A cup of Joe for Joe!" and he got tired of correcting her. Joshua Penderson had moved into his little apartment in Washington heights a few months ago, after he had missed the admissions deadline in his local community college, and so with the money he had saved up to go to school, he thought at least he could move out of the house. His mom was dating a new guy and what with her working all day and being out all night his interactions with her were little notes saying "Dinner's in the Fridge" or "Order something". There wasn't much to stay for.

He had been able to get a sublet off of Craiglist from a guy who was recently deported- but optimistic, and that gave him the flexibility that if it was a complete disaster he could always go home. It was no lease and weekly, which gave his sublandlord the ability to kick him out with no notice too, which gave Joshua an added sense of excitement and living on borrowed time. And now it had been a couple of months and he might have to go back anyway if he didn't get a job soon, whether or not his landlord got back from Canada.

Joshua had tried to get a job working in a clothing store but the manager thought that a boy from upstate wouldn't have the work ethic he needed for this less than minimum wage job. This manager prefered hiring "New Americans".

So that is why on this cool November morning, that had just settled into light, Joshua was wandering the streets looking for help wanted signs. It had snowed overnight and NY was still recovering from this freak moment of winter. So with little piles of off white dottering the sidewalk, and while looking down at his boots which were threatening to take on water, he saw it there, a little moleskin book jauntily sticking up like it was on display. "Read me" it seemed to say to him, taunting Joshua like the pastries in Alice's Wonderland.

First page:

THIS IS A BOOK OF INFLUENCE

Joshua looked around for a "person of influence" who may have dropped the book but there was none to be found, not that he could tell.

"A cup of Jo for Jo?"

Um sure, He was just looking for a warm place to sit with his curious find, and seats were for customers only.

THIS IS A BOOK OF INFLUENCE. All caps. Then underneath, in brackets (use at your own peril).

On the pages following were names and numbers, addresses and events. In a random pattern beside these entries again in all caps: GOOD, BAD, VERY GOOD, VERY BAD.

"What's the book? Are you a poet?"

"What? Ummmm no... I found it, it's... someones "

"Cool, like a mirror into thier soul..." The coffee girl was cleaning up around him, she'd never said so much to him. Maybe he should try being a poet, it would make being poor and out of work more romantic.

"I'm not reading someone's diary, that would be creepy" Josh was suddenly very nervous that it was weird that he had picked up the book in the first place. "It's more like a daytimer... sort of?"

"Oh so you're more stalkery" she smiled with a little half laugh that let him know she was joking.

"Yeah like the world before insta".. That wasn't a bad idea thought Josh, Being a stalker for good. Maybe if he went looking he could find whoever's book this was. Unlike him, they seemed to be living an interesting life. Last night they had gone to a club around the corner: VERY BAD - hastely scralled. And there tucked between the pages was a coatcheck ticket. "First clue, I guess they left their coat last night."

"You should go pick up it up! That clubs really cool and with your baby face that's the only way you'll ever get to see it, then you can be whoever it is's personal St. Francais." she said as she tossed someone's forgotten gloves in the garbage.

"What?"

"You know the patron saint of lost things."

Joshua felt like a lost thing, he also was increadibly lacking in excitement. The thought of seeing the coat of a person who writes a notebook like this seemed interesting. Besides, there were so many addresses and appointments written in this notebook with it's soft black leather cover, he was bound to find the owner eventually.

Josh wondered if the owner was GOOD, BAD, VERY GOOD or VERY BAD, As he entered the club. Somehow in the dingy work lights of day Josh couldn't tell what the big deal was. He found part of the cleaning staff who pointed him to the day manager. "They let you in last night? I am going to have to talk to the bouncers... do you have your ticket?"

Josh handed it to the manager without explaining the notebook, just as her phone started to ring. " What do you mean the kegs won't be here till 8?" The doors open at 8:30! She was holding the phone with her chin while going through the line of left over coats and bags. "You were late last week, don't tell me I need to get another supplier!" She tossed the wool overcoat to Josh, and pointed irritated to the door, she wanted to get back to screaming at the person on the other line in peace.

It had gotten chillier in the time he was inside so Josh slipped on this strangers coat. Surprisingly it fit very well, over his own slim jacket and he felt warm and momentarily taken care of. With this coat, Josh wondered if finders keepers would be so bad - people are always losing their jackets in clubs. He reached into the pockets as he crossed the road, perhaps he would be lucky and be able find some gloves within, but to get to them he had to pass a roll of something, something he could only imagine from movies. Joshes hands froze in the pocket, he dared not look until he got home.

When Josh was safely behind the locked doors of his sublet apartment he allowed his hand to bring out what he though it was, yes, a giant roll of money, the kind you only imagine in the pockets of billionaires or criminals. Josh counted it, then and counted it again. He looked at the little black book, he looked at the piles of money in 20 piles of $1000, and he wondered: was this GOOD, BAD, VERY GOOD, or VERY BAD? And what was he?